Sunday, February 23, 2014

The things they never tell you

One
afternoon, when Big One was still Only One, my husband and I were walking
through the Sainsbury's car park, amazed that Only One had managed to chew off
her shoes and socks three times while in the supermarket. 'The things
they never tell you,' he laughed.

I had a
flash of genuine insight. They don't happen often, but oh, when they
do... 'They do tell us,' I replied. 'We just ignore it because never
think it will happen to us.' Our little angels won't throw temper
tantrums. We would never bribe our children with sweets. I would
never leave the house without extra nappies or with a spit-up stain
on my shoulder. We are logical, reasonable and organized people – beyond such
travails.

Ha!

I will now
reveal my top six truths about life with kids that, if you have children, you
will recognize.If you have yet to take
the plunge, you will (as I did) assert that these things will never, ever
happen to you.And I will laugh like Dr.
Evil when they do.Because they will.

If you are
expecting, or hoping to be expecting, buy a washer, dryer and stock in Procter
& Gamble (Ariel and Fairy), Unilever (Persil) or whichever company markets
your favourite detergent.And whichever
companies provide your water and electricity.When I was single, I did laundry once a week.Or so.Now it’s once day.At least.It is amazing how much washing such little
people can create.

It will
take you, on average, a half-hour to leave the house.And that’s on a super-efficient day.The nappy bag must be packed, the baby fed,
burped, changed and clothed.The day
that you are in a hurry and decide to risk it by only taking one change of
clothes will be the day that your baby spits up three times.You will then have to either buy something
new if you are near a shop that sells baby clothes; if not you must decide
which outfit is the least vile and smelly or let them hang out in just their
nappy.

BC (before
children) I would see parents out with their offspring at restaurants, in
supermarkets, on airplanes.If the children
went into tantrum mode, I would get annoyed, shake my head and wonder why these
parents couldn't make their children behave.Now when my children act up, I get annoyed at the people who shake their
heads and wonder why I can’t make my children behave.

There will
be at least one woman in your circle of friends, perhaps one who had their baby
at the same time as you did, with a flat stomach.They will swear it’s breastfeeding and
nothing else.You will look down at your
own belly pudge and decide that the stomach in question is flat due to a combination
of 1. Never eating, 2. Impossible amounts of exercise, 3. Santeria voodoo and
offerings to Oblia the goddess of tight abdomens, 4. Surrogacy.

From the
time your first little miracle comes home from the hospital until your last
little one becomes a teenager (I hope), you will have a maximum of 88 seconds
alone in the toilet.They will pounce
like pygmy owls around a helpless mouse if they sense that you want, or need,
to be alone.

You will rarely
raise your voice to your children.On
one of the very few occasions that you express frustration you will turn around
to see your boss standing right behind you.And his wife.